Behind the Scenes
by MetaBlade
Summary: Life in the Smash world was far harsher than anyone knew; the brutal matches observed by the spectators were only the tip of the iceberg. Behind the scenes, darkness and violence reigned, and there was no escape for the unlucky ones. (SSBB era.)
1. The Harsh Reality

**A/N: So, this is a Smash Bros AU taking place in the Brawl era (so only characters from Brawl will be included). It focuses on the idea that the fighters in Smash were actually kidnapped by Master Hand and forced to fight against their will, only able to earn their freedom by winning the tournaments.**

**I've got three chapters of this written so far, and I don't know how long it'll be altogether.**

**Keep in mind, this is going to be a darker and harsher version of the Smash world, and thus it will include violence, blood and strong language. There will also be slight sexual references at times.**

**Enjoy!**

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'You! _You_ did it!'

I yelped involuntarily as I found myself suddenly being shoved face-first into a wall. Nose pressed against the cool, green-painted plaster, I tried to turn my head to see who was behind me. Hot breath, stinking of smoke, burned wood and meat, washed over me like a putrid tidal wave, nearly making me retch. Oh yes, it was Bowser.

'You _did that!'_ he snarled right in my ear. Fear rushed through my veins, sharp and painful. I was all too aware that nobody was likely to help me if Bowser decided to do something. Not only were most of the other Smashers terrified of the massive, fire-breathing, carnivorous monster, there was also a strict ban on fighting outside the arenas. Even if you started a fight in someone else's defence, you'd get penalised. Bowser was willing to take the risk of being caught. Other people weren't.

'Wh-what did I do?' I stammered out as warm saliva dripped from jaws onto my shoulder.

'You threw that Green Shell at me!' he growled. 'Don't think I didn't notice, punk! You screwed me over! I would've had that fight in the bag if it wasn't for you!'

My breath caught at the realisation of what he was angry about - followed by an even stronger wave of fear as I recalled the memory of my last match in the arena. Mario and I had been fighting a team battle against Bowser and Samus. Samus had been knocked out of the ring rather quickly, leaving Bowser pitted against me and my brother. I'd been sure we were going to win... until I saw Mario struggling to get the koopa king's claws off his neck. Bowser had charged at him, ignoring the risk of injury, and pinned him to the floor of the arena in a blind rage.

I had responded with an equally blind terror. Seeing Mario's eyes go unfocused as the air was wrenched from his lungs, watching him weakly tugging at Bowser's claws in an attempt to loosen them, made me lose all sense of calm logic. I'd grabbed the nearest item - a Green Shell - and tossed it forcefully at Bowser from behind. He hadn't even seen it coming. No wonder he was angry.

'Do you wanna say anything to me?' Bowser snarled, his voice barely louder than a whisper, yet sounding horribly loud since he was talking directly into my ear. 'Anything at all?'

I felt myself go cold, except for where his stinking breath kept blowing against the side of my face. One of his hands was pressed against my back, keeping me there against the wall; a hint of claw-tips digging through my overalls convinced me that trying to fight him off wouldn't end well. Not for me, at least.

'I-I-I'm sorry,' I whimpered.

'What was that?!'

'I'm sorry!'

'Not good enough! You useless, stupid plumber, do you really think I'd be satisfied with a pathetic goddamn sorry after what you did?! You ruined my chance of advancing in the tournament! You freak! I want more than a shitty apology – I want your goddamn _head_ mounted on my wall as a trophy!'

I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, trembling in anticipation of hot claws slicing through my skin. I should've known he wouldn't be satisfied with just an apology; he was out for blood, and wouldn't be happy until he got it. Maybe I should have let Mario lose the match. Bowser wouldn't have tried to kill him – there were rules against that, too, and he would have lost the match by default if he broke them – but there was nothing stopping him from trying to kill _me._

And I'd been stupid.

A whimper escaped me as I felt his heavy hand lift, almost gently, from my back, though I didn't dare move away from the wall. If I moved without his permission, he would attack me. It was a matter of pride for him; he needed to feel in control of everything. Especially now that he'd just lost a match, and had no doubt been suffering the taunts of his peers all evening.

I heard a shuffling footstep that sounded like Bowser was beginning to walk away, and I gulped in a quick breath. Then I made my first mistake. I started to turn away from the wall, expecting to see the koopa king disappearing down the corridor, unwilling to risk picking a fight with me.

His hand lashed out with unbelievable speed. Claws honed from weeks of daily arena battles sliced across my side, opening up three long, thin scratches just underneath my ribcage. I stumbled from the force of the blow, dropping to the floor and instinctively pressing a hand against the wound. I stared up at Bowser, finding his eyes meeting mine with a hatred that left me unable to breathe. There was a promise of painful death in those fiery orbs.

Then, with a grunt, he turned and ambled away, leaving me sitting alone and shellshocked on the corridor floor. I couldn't bring myself to take my eyes off him, so I watched until his seven-and-a-half foot frame disappeared around the corner.

My pulse was beginning to slow. With a shaky sigh, I looked down to see my blood seeping out from between my fingers and draining into the plush silver carpet that covered the floor. Master Hand liked his carpets. He'd kill me if he realised I was the one who'd bled all over it. I raised my head and scanned the ceiling for a CCTV camera, finding none. Good. He might not find out.

Stumbling to my feet, I hurried up the nearby staircase and almost ran to my room despite the stinging pain that was starting to blossom in my side. I wouldn't risk Bowser – or one of the other Smashers – showing up and deciding to pick a fight, taking advantage of the weakling already being half-beaten.

_This is how things are now,_ I thought as I crossed the threshold, making sure to lock the door behind me. _There's nothing I, or anyone else, can do about it. Even Mario..._

The thought of my brother made a wave of sadness wash over me, just as strong as the wave of fear I'd felt when Bowser had me pinned against the corridor wall. Mario hated this just as much as I did. And like me, he hadn't chosen to be in this situation. Nor had Peach, or Wario. Hell, even Bowser hadn't chosen it, but he'd grown to enjoy it more than anyone else, taking full advantage of his circumstances and making them into a good thing.

We could never do the same. Fate had brought us to this place – to the Smash Mansion – and trying to escape had only gotten us hurt. Hurt, and with a harsh reminder that we'd be hurt even worse if we tried again. Master Hand was powerful enough to destroy us all. Except he hadn't.

No, he'd just kidnapped us all and brought us to his world, where we were forced to fight against each other in cruel 'tournaments', in which the champion would be rewarded with the choice to go back to their own world. But all of the other Smashers would have to keep fighting until they won... or until they physically couldn't fight anymore.

In the first few days, I hadn't been able to cope. The reality of having to fight my own friends, family and enemies in order to win back my freedom had been too much for my mind to deal with. The first night, we had tried to escape – me, Mario, Peach and Wario – and we'd been punished, severely enough that none of us had tried again since. The second night, I'd cried into Peach's arms while she murmured soothing nonsense, meant for Mario as much as it was meant for me, although my brother hadn't been crying. He had been stoic, serious... and utterly devoted to finding a way out of this horrible situation.

Mario had lost all of his good humour and lightheartedness during the two weeks we'd been living in the Smash Mansion. When I looked at him now, the only thing I saw was strength and determination.

It terrified me, because I knew that, if given the chance, Mario would sacrifice himself to get the rest of us out. And dread filled me every time I saw him, because I had a horrible feeling that this was exactly what was going to happen. I was going to lose my brother. He would sooner die than let me or Peach die, and trying to tell him how selfish this was would be a lost cause.

I gingerly sat down on the edge of my bed, sucking in air through my teeth when my wounds exploded with pain. There were two beds in here; the other was Mario's. He wasn't here yet. He always went to bed late, because he liked to make sure Peach was safely locked in her own room before leaving her alone for the night. He didn't want her walking around the corridors by herself. Too many people in the Mansion would be happy to take advantage of her.

With a long, despairing sigh, I went to the closet and began rummaging around in search of the first-aid kit. It was going to be an uncomfortable night.


	2. Two Brothers

**A/N: The next (third) chapter will introduce a few more characters from Brawl's roster, or my own interpretations of them. Please keep in mind, though, that not every character in Brawl is going to be included in this story! There are 35 playable characters in Brawl. Most of them will probably be mentioned at some point, but the focus will be kept on a small group.**

**Anyway, enjoy! Updates might get slower after this and the next chapter, since I haven't written any further yet.**

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Mario had entered the room at almost 1AM, having spent the entire evening celebrating the end of the semifinals with Peach. They weren't happy because of the tournament; they were happy because it was over. At least until the finals started next week – in which both me and Mario would be required to participate, having beaten Bowser and Samus in the last match.

The idea of winning the tournament and being free of this place didn't even excite me anymore. Only one could be the champion, and if I couldn't leave without my brother and Peach, then I didn't want to leave at all.

I'd briefly contemplated throwing myself down the staircase in hopes of breaking enough bones to be excused from the finals, but that wasn't likely to happen; Master Hand could heal most wounds instantly with his magic, keeping all his fighters in good condition to that his fun wouldn't end early. That being said, I hadn't gone to him for help after Bowser attacked me - the last thing I wanted was to rely on Master Hand for _anything. _He was a monster who delighted in the pain and suffering of others.

There had to be a way out of here. There _had _to be. If we had gotten in, then we could get out. Wasn't that how things worked?

I winced suddenly as a drop of foul-smelling antiseptic lotion met the wounds on my left side. I'd called them scratches, but really, they were more like gouges. Thank the Stars they weren't deep enough to hit anything important – they were nothing worse than a painful inconvenience.

Mario's brow was furrowed as he inspected the wounds, cleaning them up to the best of his ability. He was no medic, but I didn't have anyone else to ask. Not that I'd asked _him, _either; he had noticed I was hurt the second he walked into the room, and I almost shuddered at the memory of his expression – it looked like a thundercloud had passed across his eyes for a moment.

I gazed blankly at the closed door as he worked on me, keeping my jaw clenched for reasons that had nothing to do with the pain. The question sitting at the tip of his tongue was coming any moment now; I could feel it.

'So...' Mario said, unrolling some bandages from the first-aid kit and wrapping them around me. 'What happened?'

_Something that doesn't matter, _I thought. _Not in the grand scale of things, anyway._

'...Nothing much,' I replied, trying to keep my tone as nonchalant as possible.

He made a small noise of disbelief. Tugging the bandages tight – eliciting another wince from me – he said, 'Luigi, these cuts didn't come from tripping over your shoelaces. Something happened.' He paused as if to fend off the inevitable, postponing what we both already knew he was going to say. '...It looks like you were attacked.'

I shook my head slightly in evasion, but he wasn't having any of it. Mario rarely gave up when he wanted something, whether it be vital information or something as mundane as an extra plate of spaghetti.

'Bro,' he persisted. 'Who did it? Just tell me. I'm not gonna laugh at you for losing a fight, if that's what you're worried about.'

'That's _not _what I'm worried about,' I finally said, staring at the back of the door. There was a photograph there of me, Mario, Peach and Daisy standing outside a racetrack together, arms around each others' shoulders as we laughed. Ignoring the stab of longing that hit me when I looked into Daisy's eyes, I continued, 'I'm more worried about what you're going to do if I tell you.'

'Me?' Mario's tone hadn't lost its edge of disbelief.

'Yes, you! I know you, Mario. If I tell you who did it, then you'll go after them, and we can't risk being caught fighting outside the arena. If Master Hand finds out...' I trailed off, hating the faint tremor in my voice when I said Master Hand's name.

Mario was gazing at me seriously. When he looked like that, it was easy to forget that, despite all the adventures he'd been on and how many times he'd single-handedly saved the Mushroom Kingdom, he was really just a young man who didn't know how to solve problems any better than I did. He usually managed well enough when there was a seven-foot koopa in front of him and Peach's freedom on the line, but this was an entirely new situation – for him, and for all of us.

'You _can _tell me,' he said at last. 'I... I promise I won't make a scene. I won't go after whoever it is – even though I want to for what they did to you.' Done with the bandages, he laid both of his hands down in his lap. They were curled into fists. To me, it seemed that all of his frustration was visible in that one subtle gesture. 'I don't want to get into trouble. If I do, then...' He swallowed. 'I might not be able to protect you and Peach anymore.'

I looked down at my own hands; contrasting his, they lay limp and immobile on my knees. I trusted Mario, but I didn't trust his protective anger towards the people he cared about. It had prompted him to do the most reckless things before, things that would have gotten him killed if not for blind luck and too much random chance.

But I was also aware that he wouldn't risk getting in Master Hand's bad books if it meant he might be separated from the rest of us. Master Hand sometimes moved fighters out of their rooms if they misbehaved, relocating them to 'cells' in which they couldn't come out except to participate in matches. Mario wouldn't be able to help me and Peach if he was locked up.

I took a long, slightly shaky breath.

'It was Bowser,' I said softly.

'Bowser!'

Mario nearly leapt to his feet, startling me. Our gazes met for an instant, and then he slowly sunk back onto the edge of my bed, and I resumed staring at the back of the door while my pulse returned to normal.

'Bowser...' Mario repeated, more quietly. He rubbed the knuckles of his left hand with his right. 'I mean, I guess that's not _too _surprising, Bro. He hates us, and it's kind of our fault that he's stuck here with us. I bet he'd love to take it out on you.'

He stopped just short of saying 'but he's too scared to take it out on_ me',_ realising at the last second that this would imply I was weak compared to him. I knew, because he'd said it before, and always looked embarrassed whenever it slipped out. It was the truth, but he didn't want me to believe it.

I shook my head, absent-mindedly reaching up to tug the brim of my cap down over my eyes. It was a nervous habit I'd been unable to break since it started in childhood.

'It's not because of that, Bro,' I said. 'Bowser's _happy _to be here. It's exactly the kind of thing he loves. He gets to beat people up every day, and he gets congratulated for doing it... but... he _really _hates losing matches.' A tiny shudder ran up my spine. I didn't think Mario noticed, but he was staring at me strangely. All of a sudden he seemed to piece it all together.

'Luigi!' he hissed, glancing towards the door like he was afraid Bowser might be listening in. 'Is this about... in the last match... when you threw that shell...?'

I nodded before he'd even finished. There was a thunderstorm brewing behind his eyes, and it worried me to see it because despite his promise, he might do _anything _if he was angry enough. Mario was predictable in some ways and utterly unpredictable in others. I knew he wouldn't risk my or Peach's safety by embarking on a solo rampage against Bowser, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to do something else stupid.

'He cornered me at the foot of the stairs,' I said dully. I didn't really want to recite the story; I felt like an idiot for not even attempting to fight back, but at the same time, I knew I hadn't had a chance. Bowser could destroy me blindfolded and with one arm tied behind his back.

Mario was unnervingly silent, and when I stole a glance at him, I saw his fists repeatedly clenching and unclenching in his lap.

'We have to do something, Bro,' he said after a long, uncomfortable pause. 'You – _we –_ can't keep living like this.' He turned his gaze onto me, and the thunderstorm behind his eyes was gone along with all of his determination to fight. Now he just looked tortured. Seeing me or Peach hurt and not being able to fix things was just about killing him.

'I'd love to,' I said, 'but we can't. There's no way out of this place. We already tried, didn't we?'

'Yeah, but...'

'We can't get past the force field,' I reminded him. 'Remember when you walked into it the first time we managed to get outside? You couldn't walk properly for an hour, the shock was so bad. Peach nearly had a heart attack just watching.'

'I know!' Frustration rose in Mario's voice, but it wasn't directed at me. 'Just – just give me some time to think, OK?'

Thinking was not Mario's strong suit. But he needed to feel like he was doing something, otherwise he was going to go crazy. 'OK, Bro,' I said. 'I think I'm going to bed early. You can... tell me in the morning if you come up with any great plans.'

His gaze flickered towards me as I crawled across the length of my bed to throw myself under the covers, barely remembering to take off my cap and set it on the bedside cabinet. 'You sure you're OK? You don't want me to go and get Peach or anything? She's, uh, probably much better at first-aid than me.'

'I'm fine. Just go and think. I'm sure you'll come up with something.'

I had a lot of doubts, but I didn't voice them. Mario didn't need pessimism right now; he needed hope. And if I were honest, so did I – but I'd lost all of my hope after the first time we'd tried to escape.

'Alright.' With that final word out, he hopped off my bed and flung himself down onto his own. His had red sheets and mine had green – obviously. Reaching up, he flicked off his bedside lamp and the room was absorbed by a gentle, soothing darkness that almost instantly lulled me to sleep.


	3. The Allies We Have

Breakfast was always an uncomfortable, awkward affair, but on the morning after Bowser ambushed me, it was especially bad. And for once, it had nothing to do with Mario's horrible table manners or the cheap food Master Hand provided us. Sharing a table with twenty other people, all skilled fighters, who want nothing to do with you (at best), is a daunting experience.

'Can you pass me the coffee, please, Princess?' I muttered to Peach on my right side, who was delicately cutting up eggs and bacon while avoiding the questioning – or hostile – glances from all directions.

'It's 'Peach', Luigi,' she reminded me gently as usual. I accepted the pot of coffee she handed me with a murmur of gratitude, avoiding her gaze as much as she was avoiding everyone else's.

Peach didn't know exactly what had happened last night. I'd asked Mario not to tell her, as I didn't want to worry her – and it's not as if she could have done anything to help matters, anyway. Telling her would just put more stress on her, and by extension, everyone else. But she wasn't stupid; she was incredibly attuned to the feelings of other people and seemed to have already guessed that something was amiss between us.

I'd woken up that morning to Mario shaking my shoulder, growling something incoherent about plans. That alone was surprising enough, since it was usually me who had to drag my brother out of bed in the morning and not the other way around.

Nonetheless, I'd obeyed without really thinking about it, and only after I was up and ready to leave did Mario bother to explain himself.

'I was up late last night, thinking of ways to escape from here,' he'd told me, speaking in a hushed tone as if he was worried that Master Hand might be eavesdropping. 'I might have a plan. I want to get everyone up early so we have time to discuss it before midday.'

'Why?' I'd asked. 'What's happening at midday?'

A grim look passed across Mario's face, barely noticeable to anyone who hadn't known him since childhood. 'Master Hand wants to see you,' he said, and a cold shiver ran up my spine at his emotionless words.

'Wh-why?'

'Someone must have seen you and Bowser fighting last night. Now Master Hand knows, and he's requested to talk to you both. I don't know what's going to happen, so I want to get you out of the mansion before you have to go up and see him.'

My stomach was lurching quietly in protest at this news. I tried to ignore it. 'B-but we weren't fighting. _He _attacked _me! _I didn't even try to touch him!'

'I know that, Luigi, but does Master Hand know that? Maybe the person who saw it happen doesn't like you, and they made up some lie about you beating Bowser to the floor with a home-run bat. Whoever it was, they're probably just trying to get you into trouble.'

I fought to keep the rising fear from becoming obvious, but Mario had probably already seen it. He was my big brother; he could always tell when I wasn't feeling good or was scared out of my wits. The quick glance he threw at me – nervous, worried and apologetic all at once – told me as much. 'What if we can't escape before I have to go to him?' I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

'Then you'll just have to go. Tell him the truth. Just be prepared for anything. Bowser will be there too, and he'll try to pretend that you attacked him. Stick to your side of the story and don't lose your temper. The worst Master Hand can do, even if he believes Bowser's story over yours, is lock you in a room. And we'll still get you out.'

_Lose my temper? _I thought, too numb to laugh at how ridiculous that idea was. I felt much more likely to pass out or throw up on myself than lose my temper. Why Mario thought it was even a possibility was beyond me, but I nodded, knowing how seriously he was taking this.

He was scared; just as scared as I was. The only difference was that he wasn't fearing for himself, but for everyone he wanted to protect, because he knew he might not be able to. Strong and brave as he was, he couldn't hope to defeat Master Hand.

'What's your idea?' I asked quietly.

He shook his head, quickly pushing the door open and stepping outside. He was gone in an instant, running down the staircase to the breakfast hall. Mystified, I followed him, shutting the door behind me and locking it with the key I always kept in my pocket (Mario and I each had our own key). Clearly he wasn't going to explain himself until our whole group managed to get together to listen.

And that brings me right back to my current predicament; trying to finish breakfast at lightning speed while a dozen hard-faced fighters eyed me darkly from over their coffee and eggs. I spotted Bowser sitting at the far end of the table, in a custom-built chair large enough to hold him, and his flame-red eyes met mine for a fraction of a second. I quickly looked down, averting my gaze from him even as my pulse hammered in my throat from that one brief moment of contact.

He looked angry. I wasn't surprised about that, but there had also been something else – a hint of smug satisfaction. And somehow, I had a feeling that it wasn't caused by the way I'd limped awkwardly into the breakfast hall, trying to keep my weight off my injured side.

_Maybe it wasn't another person who reported our 'fight', _I thought. _Maybe Bowser went to Master Hand himself, telling him that I'd attacked him in the corridor. And now Master Hand wants to see both of us, to figure out which of us is lying..._

I swallowed dryly, suddenly feeling nauseated again. Mario, who was sitting on my left side, shot me a quick worried glance, but was intelligent enough to not ask me what was wrong while surrounded by hostile faces. Bowser was staring at me – I could see him out of the corner of my eye – and I forced myself to keep my eyes averted until he finally looked away.

Peach, too, had noticed the exchange, but like Mario, she knew better than to bring it up.

'So, uh, Peach,' said Mario suddenly, 'd'you have some free time to meet me in my room after breakfast? I wanna talk to you about something.' He was keeping his tone lighthearted, making it sound as though he just wanted to discuss the semifinal results with her or something.

Peach hurriedly swallowed her mouthful of food. 'Of course!' she replied, smiling over my head at him. 'Right after breakfast?'

Mario nodded and returned his attention to his own food, a quiet sense of satisfaction radiating from him. The first part of his plan had clearly gone, err, to plan. Not that I had the slightest idea what it was yet, but I was certain that I'd find out soon enough.

'Wonder what he wants with her?' a low, grumbling voice from the other side of the table rang out. I risked sending my eyes upwards for a few seconds to identify the speaker, and my breath came out in a sigh of relief when I saw that it was only Ganondorf. Not that Ganondorf speaking was a _good_ thing, but I was less afraid of him than Bowser – perhaps irrationally.

'Maybe he wants to celebrate his victory, if you know what I mean,' snickered Wolf, with a lewd, suggestive grin that made half the breakfast-goers choke on their coffee.

Bowser growled. 'Don't be an idiot,' he muttered. 'Luigi shares the goddamn bedroom with him.'

'They could always lock him out,' said Ganondorf, who seemed to have very little interest in the conversation but still deigned to talk whenever he thought of something to say.

'What, and just leave him wandering the halls until they're done?' said Bowser.

Ganondorf shrugged. Sitting at the breakfast table, fork in one hand and the other hand clutching a coffee mug with 'I Love Super Smash Bros' on the side, he couldn't have looked less like the King of Evil. That was probably why I feared him less than I did Bowser. Bowser was violent and unpredictable, while Ganondorf tended to keep to himself unless provoked – dangerous, but harmless as long as you didn't step on his toes.

'He wouldn't have to just wander around, anyway,' said Wolf scornfully. 'He could always go and do some training matches. I'm sure plenty of people would _jump_ at the chance to fight the guy who _won_ the semifinal...'

Instantly, Bowser stiffened, his whole body turning in his chair to fix Wolf with a scowl that made me want to get up and leave the room. I remembered that scowl, those bared teeth, that tensed posture all too well. The memory of last night came washing over me like a gentle tide.

Nauseated, I shoved the half-eaten remnants of my breakfast away and slid my chair back. Several people chuckled unkindly, clearly recognising that I was choosing to leave before I became the subject of the gossip.

'He knocked Bowser out with a Green Shell!' Falco exclaimed snidely. 'A _Green Shell! _Can _you _do that, Wolf?'

'I'll shove a Green Shell up your stupid-'

'Ignore Wolf,' said another voice – Zelda. I didn't like her very much. She looked as sweet-natured as Peach, but underneath that facade was a cool, capable monarch who hated being here and was prepared to do anything to get out. She had her sights set on the champion's trophy, and would destroy anyone who got in her way. 'He's only bitter because he didn't get through to the finals.'

The conversation subsided into unhappy grumblings, quickly drowned out by the clicking of plates and cutlery. It seemed that the gossip was over – for now.

'Mario, Peach?' I said, hoping my voice wouldn't carry. 'I'll go up and wait for you, OK?'

Mario nodded, clearly not intending to leave the table until every scrap of food on his plate was gone. Peach also nodded, though favoured me with a kind, apologetic smile as well. I returned it weakly, hurrying out of the breakfast hall before anyone could decide to follow me.

Zelda wasn't the only fighter in the Smash Mansion who was willing to do just about anything, no matter how abhorrent, to win her freedom. Nearly everyone was, except for the few who enjoyed the fights so much that they were happy to stay here for as long as Master Hand wanted them. Bowser was obviously part of the latter group, but it also included Wolf, Falco, Meta Knight, and several others. However, not all of the people who enjoyed fighting were bad guys; Meta Knight was loyal and courteous as long as you stayed on his good side, and even Falco wasn't so terrible once you got to know him better.

But friendships rarely lasted in this place. Oh, you might have a friend for a while, but as soon as you were pitted against them in a match and both of you were fighting to win back your freedom, all good feelings went out the window. Everyone here was fighting for themselves. Survival of the fittest. Kill-or-be-killed.

The only people who actually stuck together were me, Mario, and Peach. Our alliance made us unique, and I thought – or maybe hoped – that because of it, we had a better chance of escaping this horrible place together. I wasn't going to leave unless I could take them with me, and I knew both of them felt the same.

Sometimes Wario also helped us out with things – in fact, the fat man had accompanied us the first time we'd sneaked outside to try and bypass the force field encircling the mansion. But after that first, failed attempt, he had become distant, throwing himself into the fights with reckless disregard for his own safety. It was clear that he expected to never be free of the mansion and was simply trying to make the most of a bad situation.

In short, Mario, Peach and I only had each other. We had to rely on each other. We had to tell each other everything. And we had to help each other to the best of our ability. Although Mario was usually the one most actively trying to think of escape plans, Peach provided comfort and support, making her as invaluable as him.

And me?

I'm not sure what I brought to the group. I wasn't good at planning, and I didn't have Peach's natural gift of supporting others. I was just the younger brother who Mario needed to protect, and I truly hated that my weakness and cowardice made it that way. But maybe, in retrospect, Mario _needed _someone to protect. Protecting me was easier than finding a way to escape this seemingly inescapable mansion, and perhaps he needed to feel in control of just one part of his life.

Unlocking the door to our room, I slipped inside and fell forwards onto my bed. I felt tired, even though I'd slept quite well last night, all things considered. _They'll be up here soon, _I thought. _Then Mario can tell us what this 'plan' of his is all about._


	4. The Start of a Plan

Nearly twenty minutes passed before my brother and Peach came back to the bedroom; I'd been starting to feel impatience creeping up on me, despite my efforts to ignore it. I told myself that they were probably enjoying breakfast together and weren't in any hurry to rush back and discuss _plans. _Then I remembered my scheduled meeting with Master Hand at midday, and fear washed over me like a tidal wave.

I had no doubts in my mind that Bowser was going to lie about what had happened. If Master Hand discovered that he had made an unprovoked attack on me, then he'd be locked up for the rest of the tournament. Bowser wasn't going to sit back and let that happen. He was going to try and get _me _locked up instead.

The ban on fighting outside the arena was so strict that, even if you hurt someone in self-defence, you risked punishment. It didn't matter whether Master Hand thought I'd attacked Bowser or simply defended myself against him; both possibilities would result in me being thrown into a cell, separated for the rest of the tournament from Mario and Peach. The only difference between the two was whether or not Bowser got punished as well.

I expected Bowser to lie through his teeth and claim that I'd attacked him unprovoked in the corridor last night. He would be overjoyed to see me locked up. But it all depended on Master Hand, and which of us he chose to believe.

There was also the question of just _who _had reported our 'fight' to him in the first place. Mario thought that some other Smasher must have witnessed it and immediately rushed to tell Master Hand, probably hoping to get both of us into trouble. But I suspected that Bowser had told Master Hand himself. Of course, he wouldn't have told him the truth about the incident.

Suddenly, the bedroom door clicked open and Peach stepped inside, followed by Mario, who had been gallantly holding it open for her. His expression was grim, while her face showed only a mild curiosity. Without preamble, she sat down on the end of my bed and fixed her gaze on me.

'What happened last night?' she asked, her tone gentle yet demanding in a way that told me she wouldn't accept any excuses or lies.

I sighed. 'I already told Mario everything. Why can't you just ask him?'

She shrugged. 'I wanted to hear it from _you, _Luigi. I wasn't sure if you were comfortable with me knowing, so I thought I'd ask you personally instead of getting the gossip from Mario.' The red-capped man in question had sat down on his own bed, staring at the floor. He didn't look depressed; he looked closed-off.

'There's no gossip,' I said. 'Bowser attacked me at the foot of the stairs. He was angry about me making him lose his fight against Mario in the semifinals. Now I think he's trying to convince Master Hand that _I _attacked _him, _so he can get me locked up in a dungeon for the rest of the tournament.'

'But that's silly!' said Peach. 'Bowser doesn't have any evidence. You didn't hurt him, did you?'

'No...'

'Then he can't possibly prove that you did anything. Tell Master Hand the truth, and he'll have to believe you.'

_Master Hand isn't a saint, _I wanted to remind her. _He might just decide to side with Bowser because he hates me. _Master Hand didn't actually hate me – as far as I knew – but he often favoured the fighters who actually _enjoyed _the matches, while showing contempt for the cowards and weaklings who could barely pick up a home-run bat.

'Maybe,' I said after a short pause. I didn't want to mention my worries to her; she probably already thought of me as pathetic. 'I guess I'll just have to wait and see how things turn out.'

Mario lifted his head. I'd assumed he wasn't paying any attention to our little conversation, but his next words proved me wrong. 'You don't have to worry about anything, Bro. I told you, I have a plan to escape. And if it works, then we could be back home in the Mushroom Kingdom by tonight.'

I couldn't make myself believe him. Hope nudged at me, wanting to make an appearance, and I ruthlessly shoved it back down. Hope would just cause me greater pain when it turned out to be false. 'Come on, Mario,' I said, not angry, but tired. 'We've been here for two weeks and haven't been able to find a way to escape. Nobody has. It can't be done.'

Clearly frustrated, he wiped his mustache with the back of a finger, a habit that always crept into his behaviour whenever he started feeling stressed. 'That's because nobody's really tried,' he said. 'Everyone's too scared, especially after what happened on that first night.'

I swallowed and looked away, not caring that Peach was gazing at me with a patient understanding, knowing how I felt but still desperately wanting me to listen to my brother. 'We could have died,' I said. 'Actually _died. _We can't risk going near the force field again.'

'We don't need to. Listen, Luigi. I've heard rumours that somewhere in this mansion is a control room. The switch to turn off the force field might be in there. Only Master Hand is supposed to know where it is, but maybe we could find it. The mansion isn't that big. I'm thinking it must be in the basement, 'cuz nobody ever goes in there and it's always guarded.'

'Guarded by what?'

'Uh, just weird monster things. I guess Master Hand controls them.' Mario scratched the back of his head, the movement causing his cap to lift up slightly. He pushed it firmly back down and said, 'I know it's not much of a plan, but we have to do _something.'_

I looked at Peach's worried, hopeful face, seeing the desperation in the backs of her eyes. She really wanted this to work. But I think she cared more about Mario than herself; if she could buy his freedom with a lifetime of service in the Smash Mansion, then I think she would. I vaguely wondered how it must feel to love someone that deeply.

Then I turned my gaze onto Mario himself, seeing him trying and failing to appear nonchalant.

'You guys do realise that if we get caught doing this, we'll probably be locked up?' I said in a low voice. 'You'll have no chance to escape the mansion if you're stuck in a cell somewhere...'

They both nodded, wearing identical expressions of mixed determination and fear. It might have been funny under different circumstances.

'That's why we can't let this fail,' said Mario. 'We have one chance. Just one.'

I felt several urges – including the urge to facepalm, the urge to sigh, and the urge to tell every other person in this room they were an idiot – but I repressed them all. Pessimism and complaints wouldn't help our situation. Mario's 'plan', if it could even be called that, was the only tiny chance we had. Either it would work and we'd all be free of the mansion, or it would fail and we'd all be sitting in windowless cells by nightfall. I could tell from their faces that they wouldn't force me into something I wasn't happy with – and nor would they leave me behind. They would do this only if I said yes. Since when was I responsible for making the important, potentially life-changing decisions in this group?

I stopped repressing the urge to sigh, and all the air in my lungs came out in a huge huff. Peach immediately started smiling.

'I guess we don't have much of a choice,' I said.

Mario leapt to his feet. And just like that, he was in control again, standing tall and strong in the middle of the room, demanding respect. In that moment, he truly looked like the hero who had saved his love from Bowser on so many occasions. It wasn't hard to understand why Peach was so enamoured with him – or the rest of the Mushroom Kingdom, for that matter.

'Right!' he said. 'Here's exactly what we're going to do. Someone is going to cause a distraction in the breakfast hall, drawing everyone's attention away from the trapdoor that leads into the basement.' I nodded, despite the fact that I didn't even know where the trapdoor was. Then I did a double take.

'Wait,' I said, sitting up straighter. 'Who's going to be causing the distraction? Whoever they are, they're going to be in danger.'

'It's OK,' said Mario, smiling a little. 'None of us are doing it. We have lots of allies, Bro. Someone else is going to cause a diversion and we're going to make a rush for the basement door, fight our way past the guards, find the force field switch, and turn it off. Then we'll run outside like Toads fleeing from Bowser.'

I had a lot of questions brewing, but I decided to ask the most obvious one. 'What do you mean, allies? Nobody likes us. Except for each other, and maybe Wario on a good day.'

But Mario just shook his head, his small smile turning into a grin that made confidence ooze out of him. 'Nope, there are other people too. Maybe they don't _like _us much, but I was able to convince them to help us.'

'Who?' I demanded, feeling suspicious. 'And what did you bribe them with?'

'I didn't bribe them with anything,' Mario replied, but I knew he was lying. He never sounded like that except when he was lying. 'Just don't worry about it, OK, Bro?'

'Fine,' I said, defeated. He wouldn't tell me unless he wanted to. 'But I still want to know who's causing this 'diversion'.'

His cocky grin came back in full force. 'Ness, Lucas, Toon Link and Kirby.'

My brow furrowed. 'All of the kids?'

'Yep. They're gonna cause a ruckus and keep everyone's attention focused on one part of the mansion. I figured it would look less suspicious if only the kids were doing it, since, y'know, they're _kids. _They do stuff like this all the time anyway.'

I wasn't particularly keen on the idea of using the kids for our escape plan, but my suspicion was quickly dissolving. Ness, Lucas, Toon Link and Kirby were good people; they didn't hate us like most of the fighters did. They were young enough that all they cared about was whether or not someone was nice to them, and Mario, Peach and I had always stayed on their good side. Mario had probably bribed them with sweets, which was why he'd been reluctant to tell me.

'OK, let's do this,' I said, clearly startling both of my companions.

'You sure?' said Mario, eyebrows raised. 'Remember, we won't go through with this if you're not one-hundred-percent OK with it. We're a team – we don't go behind each others' backs.'

Peach nodded firmly, her steadfast loyalty not surprising me. 'Look,' I sighed, 'I appreciate this, but I really don't wanna be in charge of making the decisions. If you both want to do this, then I'll go along with it. I don't mind.'

I was terrified, though. Mario's plan was nothing but a loose framework of 'mights' and 'what ifs', and I knew that one tiny failure could result in all three of us being locked up for the rest of the tournament. Maybe even for the next tournament as well.

But if we didn't try, then we'd be trapped in this horrible place forever, forced to fight against our will, hurting others to win back our desperately-sought-after freedom. We had to try.

'Alright,' said Mario. Suddenly, I realised that beneath his air of confident leadership, he looked every bit as nervous as me. 'We're going to do this. Right now. Before Luigi gets called to his meeting with Master Hand. I need to go and give my signal to the kids, and then I'll be back.' And, with a quick nod, he hurried out of the room. Leaving me and Peach to sit together in uncomfortable, worried silence.

I wanted this to work, but I didn't dare hope.


	5. The Control Room

**A/N: It's been a while. I've been absorbed in other fanfics and different projects lately, but I wanted to try and write more of this story. In this chapter, Mario, Luigi and Peach journey down into the mansion's basement in search of the supposed control room, where they can turn off the force field surrounding the mansion and allow them all to escape.**

**There's a little A/N at the end of this chapter!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

I winced slightly as Mario nudged me aside to get a closer look at the basement trapdoor. It was certainly well-hidden, and I hadn't bothered asking exactly how he'd known where to find it. He must have known all along, too, because he had led us straight to the location without a moment's hesitation, as if he had already been here countless times.

The trapdoor was hidden inside a cupboard under the staircase that stretched from the first floor to the upper landing. It was the same staircase that Bowser had cornered me against last night, and the memory did absolutely _nothing _to help my growing feelings of unease. My instincts were screaming at me to get the hell out of here, but Mario wasn't leaving until he found the control room where the force field switch was _supposedly _located. And by extension, nor was Princess Peach.

She shot me a quick glance, obviously seeing my wince out of the corner of her eye. 'Are you OK?' she asked softly. Behind her, Mario was lying on the floor beneath the stairs, examining the trapdoor, trailing his gloved fingers across it, tugging against it – to no avail. It was firmly shut and showed no signs of wanting to open.

'Yeah,' I replied quickly. She knew I was lying. That much was obvious. Even if the way I was clutching my injured side hadn't given it away, she probably would have guessed just from my expression or tone of voice. Peach really was amazing at reading peoples' moods. 'Just... sore.'

She touched my shoulder briefly in sympathy. 'Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to stay upstairs while we do this? You don't have to come. You're still hurt...'

I shook my head. 'We're a team, remember?' I said, Mario's earlier words coming back to me. 'We have to help each other. It... it wouldn't be fair to ask you guys to do this alone. I need to help you somehow.'

'I know you want to, but... I just don't want you to get hurt even more, or get into trouble with Master Hand.'

I ignored the implication that I couldn't take care of myself, and simply shrugged. 'Maybe that will happen, but I'm not going anywhere.'

She gave me a thin-lipped, nervous smile before kneeling down under the stairs to help Mario. I watched as they murmured things to each other, things that I couldn't hear and didn't want to. In the span of five seconds, Peach had gone from talking with me to being absorbed in her own little world that no-one besides Mario had permission to be in. They were sharing a moment together before descending into chaos, and I didn't resent them for trying to find whatever happiness they could.

Suddenly, Peach let out an exclamation of delight. 'Here! There's a little switch on this wall...' She reached out and pressed something on the inner wall of the cupboard, and like magic, the trapdoor silently swung open to reveal... darkness. A seemingly bottomless pit of blackness that made my legs turn to jelly from the very first moment I looked inside.

I swallowed, my gaze flickering to Mario and Peach. Both of them were staring down into the trapdoor. Since nobody seemed willing to speak, I tentatively said: 'Uhm, I-I don't wanna scare you, but we could break our legs jumping down there. Or worse.'

'Is there a way of finding out how deep it is?' Mario asked. There was no fear in his voice at all, and I had a sneaking suspicion that, if he'd been alone, he would have leapt down into that pit with no hesitation. Only the presence of me and Peach stopped him from doing it.

'We could throw something down and listen for when it hits the bottom?' Peach ventured.

'Does that really work, or is it just one of those things people do in movies?' I asked.

Mario didn't respond to either of us. After a moment of contemplation, he tugged his cap off his head and lifted his arm slightly, as if about to throw it down.

'Not that!' I yelped, involuntarily jerking forwards to catch the hat if he really did decide to toss it. The idea of Mario losing his signature cap disturbed me more than I cared to admit. 'It's too soft, anyway – you won't even hear it hitting the floor.'

He grunted in acknowledgement and pushed the cap back onto his head. 'Does anyone have anything better?'

Simultaneously, both of our eyes went to Peach's crown.

'...Oh!' Her hand went up to grab at it. She seemed surprised but, to my relief, not offended. 'Yes, that would work!' Taking the shiny, jewel-encrusted crown off her head, she hung it from her pinkie finger for a moment before letting it drop into the black hole. That was one of the things I liked most about Peach; she wasn't afraid to do... un-princess-like things when the situation called for it. I think she secretly loved getting the chance to be a rebel.

We all waited, holding our breaths so that we wouldn't miss the sound of the crown's fall. It took perhaps a second and a half before I heard the distant, metallic _clunk _echoing from somewhere below the mansion.

'Anyone know how far that is?' Mario asked cluelessly.

'At least twelve feet,' I murmured, leaning over the trapdoor in an attempt to see a glint of Peach's crown. But it was too dark down there to see a thing. 'Why didn't we bring a flashlight?'

'None of us owns a flashlight,' said Mario, a bit defensively. 'Anyway, twelve feet isn't that far. I can _jump _higher than that. It's safe.' And before any of us could open our mouths to suggest otherwise, he swung his legs into the trapdoor, held on for a split second, and then dropped.

A sharp intake of breath caught in Peach's throat – the beginnings of a scream, swiftly pulled back. 'Mario?' she called out, trying to keep her voice quiet enough not to draw attention but loud enough to carry down into the basement.

Instantly, Mario's voice echoed up to where we were sitting. 'It's fine! You can jump down!' He sounded cheerful and a bit smug, clearly proud of himself for being the first one brave enough to take the plunge – not that the rest of us had even had a chance to consider it.

I glanced at Peach and she nodded resolutely. 'I'll go next,' she whispered, and with a deep breath, she lowered herself into the trapdoor and followed Mario into the blackness.

_I wonder if she falls slower because of her dress acting like a parachute, _I mused. Peach had the ability to float for short periods of time, a power that she liked to abuse during battles. But she could only float horizontally through the air, neither rising nor falling in altitude, so it probably wouldn't help her to fall down a trapdoor any slower.

I looked behind me to check that no-one was watching this. The corridor was empty. It seemed as though the kids' diversion was working; I could hear the faintest hum of noise emanating from the breakfast hall, broken by the occasional louder noise that sounded like an agitated shout. I had no idea what Ness, Lucas, Toon Link and Kirby were _doing, _but whatever it was, it had succeeded in distracting everyone's attention. Even Master Hand would probably be busy for a while.

With a small sigh, I lowered my body into the trapdoor, squeezing my eyes shut as I fell. Even though I knew it was safe, letting myself drop into that impenetrable darkness was one of the scariest things I'd ever willingly done.

My shoes hit a wooden floor, and instantly my knees buckled from the force of the impact. A pair of arms grabbed me around the waist to hold me up, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth as whoever it was unwittingly brushed against the wounds in my side.

'Are you OK?' Peach whispered as she released me. It was the second time she'd asked that question today.

I nodded hastily, straightening up, one hand automatically moving to adjust my cap as it attempted to slide off my head. All of a sudden I wished that Peach's arms were still around me, for no reason other than the simple reassurance that I wasn't alone. The room we were in was pitch-black; I could see absolutely nothing unless I tilted my head back and allowed the faint square-shaped glow of the trapdoor entrance to swim into view. The light coming from above was nowhere near enough to illuminate the basement. _How did Mario expect us to be able to navigate in here? We're walking completely blind._

As if sensing my unease, Peach lightly rested a hand on my shoulder and whispered, 'What do we do now?'

'I don't know.' Mario's gruff voice was barely audible even in the dead silence of the basement.

'We need light...'

And then the solution hit me. 'Mario!' I hissed.

'What?'

'Fire! Use fire!'

'We don't have any fire!'

I groaned in exasperation. Trust my brother to completely forget about his own abilities during a crisis. I closed my eyes (without knowing why, since I couldn't see a thing anyway) and focused, willing my fire magic to creep into play. I heard the first faint crackle of fire leaping into the air, accompanied by Peach's soft gasp of understanding. I opened my eyes and smiled as I saw the neon-green sparks coursing down my arm to coil themselves around my clenched fist, making a circle of light large enough to cover all three of us.

For the first time, I was able to look up and survey the area we had fallen into.

It was a large room, decked out in grimy wooden floorboards and what appeared to be solid concrete walls, giving me the uncanny feeling of being _entombed. _From Peach and Mario's uncharacteristic silence, I guessed that they were getting the same unpleasant sensation.

Mario lifted a hand and grazed the tip of his index finger along the nearest wall. 'There's a sign or... something.' I raised my arm to illuminate the wall, and saw that he was right. Someone had nailed a metal sign up there. It might have once been pristine, but now was so badly rusted that we could barely decipher the words even when we leaned in close.

It read, 'CONTROL ROOM AHEAD'. A large black arrow pointed off into the expanse of darkness.

I let my gaze shift sideways to find Mario grinning far too eagerly.

'I didn't realise it would be so close!' he whispered. 'Now c'mon, let's get going. This is gonna be easy.'

He started walking away.

'Mario!' Peach exclaimed. 'Stop!'

He jerked to a standstill, his body virtually quivering with the effort of stopping himself in time. 'What is it?' he said, without moving so much as an eyebrow hair. I realised that he must think Peach had spotted a deadly trap, one that he'd been about to walk into. Cautiously, I crept up behind him and lifted my arm to cast a fiery glow across the floorboards. Nothing.

'Didn't you say that this place was supposed to be guarded?' Peach whispered.

'Uh, yeah... I think so... Did I say that?'

I sighed. Mario was a great brother, a great leader, and a hero who would go down in history... but sometimes he was incredibly dimwitted.

'You did say that,' I replied. 'You said the basement was supposed to be guarded by monsters. _How _could you forget about that?!' My voice, which I'd been fighting hard to keep calm, rose half an octave towards the end.

'Hey!' he said, audibly offended. 'It's not like anyone else remembered!'

Before I could make a retort, Peach interrupted with a nervous squeak of, 'Uhm, maybe we should stop arguing... _right now.'_

Instantly, every part of me was on edge. There was something terribly wrong with her tone of voice, and it told me – faster than if she'd said it outright – that something very bad was about to happen. It pulled my muscles taut as a drawn bowstring. The fear I'd been holding back since the moment we jumped through the trapdoor hammered into me, drowning me. Peach said something else, but I couldn't hear it over the sound of my own pulse pounding in my ears.

With a growl, Mario jerked his own fire powers into play and summoned a circle of crimson light that clashed with my green one. He raised his fist above his head like he was about to punch someone, and the circle grew wider, allowing me to see _exactly_ what had caught Peach's attention.

'Oh, crap,' Mario muttered under his breath.

I took an involuntary step backwards and without so much as a glance, he shifted to stand in front of me. Protecting me.

Peach slid up beside him, adjusting her elegant gloves and wearing a fierce expression that I had never seen on her except during Master Hand's matches. An expression that said she would do anything – _anything –_ to win this fight.

'Peach,' Mario whispered, 'I can deal with this. Please, stay back.' There was veiled fear in his voice.

'No way,' she muttered back. 'We're a team. We don't abandon each other to fight alone.'

Reality smacked into me. I forced my panic down and stepped forwards, putting myself on Mario's other side and brandishing my flame-covered arm. We were a _team. _I was _not _about to cower in the corner and let my brother and one of my closest friends risk their lives to protect me.

We stood tall and faced down the Fighting Wireframes.

* * *

**A/N: Wireframes are generic enemies in Super Smash Bros Melee; if you've never played the game, I recommend looking them up. I was originally going to use Primids in this chapter, but Primids... just aren't scary at all. The Wireframes freaked me out when I was a kid playing Melee, so I decided to use them.**


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